


Heels Over Head, Hanging Upside-Down

by onionrings_andhoneymustard



Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:48:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24343783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onionrings_andhoneymustard/pseuds/onionrings_andhoneymustard
Summary: T.K.’s crush on Judd happens quickly and unexpectedly.  One day, they’re colleagues; the next, T.K.’s breath is catching in his throat when Judd offers a hand, and helps him up off the floor (after Buttercup had abandoned T.K. in favor of Marjan and her endless parade of dog treats).T.K. says, “Thanks.”Judd gives his hand a squeeze before letting it go and says, “Don’t mention it.”And just like that, T.K. is heels over head for him.Canon-divergent AU that's a bit rushed. Judd and Grace are not married, or even together, in this universe.  Sadly, Carlos and T.K. are not together in this universe either.  Also, while I am 100% here for Judd and T.K.'s brotherly love and friendship, I am also here for Judd and T.K. gettin' it on ... hence this fic.
Relationships: Judd Ryder & TK Strand, Judd Ryder/TK Strand
Comments: 16
Kudos: 81





	Heels Over Head, Hanging Upside-Down

T.K.’s crush on Judd happens quickly and unexpectedly. One day, they’re colleagues; the next, T.K.’s breath is catching in his throat when Judd offers a hand to help him up off the floor (after Buttercup had abandoned T.K. in favor of Marjan and her endless parade of dog treats).

T.K. says, “Thanks.”

Judd gives him a smile and his hand a squeeze before letting it go and says, “Don’t mention it.”

And just like that, T.K. is heels over head for him.

\-----

T.K. doesn’t know what to do about it. The crush, that is. Usually when T.K. is interested in someone, he can tell fairly easily if the person is interested back. He can’t read Judd at all, which is equal parts fascinating and frustrating. He decides to keep his feelings to himself, as best he can. Still...

He finds himself smiling more when they talk, attempting to pepper in banter that’s a shade flirtatious. Sometimes, he thinks Judd is flirting back. When he plays the conversations over in his head at night, though—outside the heat of the moment—he finds the words could easily read as nothing more than innocent and friendly. No matter how many times it happens, the realization is always disappointing.

He finds himself doing nice things for Judd, like pouring an extra cup of coffee with “just a splash of half-and-half, how you like it.” Or shining his boots because “I was doing mine, so I figured why not?” Or splitting a Kit Kat bar since “they’re made to be shared.”

And he finds himself sitting quietly beside Judd at the honky-tonk on a Thursday night, sipping club soda with a slice of lime. He wants to talk; it practically kills him to not, but Judd had very specifically said that he wanted to enjoy a cold beer in silence after a long day. So, silence it is.

When Judd’s beer is empty, he asks T.K. to step outside with him for some air. Naturally, T.K. agrees.

They walk to the far side of the building, leaning back against the wall beneath a bulb that casts yellow light in a circle, like melted butter. After a moment, Judd asks, “How long has this been going on?”

T.K. blinks, shifting his weight. Judd is looking out into the darkness. “How long has what been going on?”

“Your crush,” Judd clarifies, with a tone that implies the subject should’ve been obvious.

“I don’t…” T.K. flounders for a moment. He had been so careful, he’s certain of that. “I don’t have a crush.”

Judd rolls his eyes. “You’re not exactly subtle, T.K. How long?”

 _Oh._ T.K. is silent for a long moment, studying Judd’s profile. And then, “A month? Maybe two.”

“Ah. Right around when the bakery ‘accidentally’ gave you that extra blueberry muffin. I thought so.”

T.K. isn’t sure what to say in response. That had been the morning after The Hand Squeeze, when the crush was shiny-new, and bubbling around his chest like a shaken grape soda. He’d channeled the feeling the best way he knew how: by giving a gift. It turns out, he doesn’t have to say anything in response.

Because Judd says, quietly, “It’s been nice. The extra attention, I mean. It’s been nice.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

Neither of them says anything for a while. The silence stretches between them and changes, doubling back on itself, like taffy.

“I’m a lot older than you, you know.” Judd’s tone is careful when he finally speaks again, the words clear and purposeful. Pushing off the wall, he steps so he’s standing squarely in front of T.K.

Tilting his head back, T.K. looks up at him, fingertips reaching out to ghost over Judd’s waist. “You’re a lot taller than me, too.”

A smile tugs at the corner of Judd’s mouth. “The Captain would kill me.”

“Cap would be fine, trust me.”

Judd looks at him for one second, two, three, and leans in. “I suppose you would know.”

“I would.” T.K. can’t wait another moment, surging forward and knocking their noses together. It’s awkward and clumsy for a tick, before he recalibrates and presses their lips together just right.

Judd cups his jaw with one hand, the other settling on top of T.K.’s at his waist, and gives it a gentle squeeze.


End file.
